Easy to Do
by alwaysaclaw11
Summary: While their kids are away at Hogwarts and their spouses busy at work, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger get involved in an affair.
1. Secret

It was wrong, but it was easy to do. Every time it got easier.

Draco's slender hand stroked Hermione's cheek as he laid her down on the silk sheets of his bed. Scorpius was at Hogwarts. It was his second year, just like Rose. Astoria was at work. Malfoy women didn't work as a matter of tradition but Astoria refused to give up her job as a healer. Hermione respected her for that, just not enough to keep her away from Astoria's husband.

Astoria was at St. Mungos a lot more than she needed to be. So Hermione was here, in Malfoy Manor, twisted in cool fabric and sweating limbs.

#

It was about five years after the end of the war that Hermione saw Draco again for the first time. It was a week before Halloween and she was alone in Diagon Alley, purchasing pumpkins for the kids to carve jack-o-lanterns. It was one of her favorite times of the year and the last one they'd be spending all together as family. Hugo was headed off to Hogwarts next year.

There was a towering pyramid of bright orange pumpkins sitting on the sidewalk. Hermione was searching for a tall, skinny one. The kind Hugo liked. She stumbled forward.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

The whole stack of pumpkins collapsed. Hermione's hand flew to her mouth and when she looked up from the mess, she saw bright silver eyes staring back at her.

"Malfoy?"

"Graceful, Granger," he said smoothly. Draco flicked his wand and the pumpkins reformed into their pristine stack. He was tall and thin as always, his hair slightly darker and lightly mussed. He wore shiny black shoes and well-pressed grey dress pants. Draco Malfoy was stunning. Might as well admit it.

"Uh. Thanks. And it's Weasley now."

Draco smirked. "Is it?"

As if he didn't know. Hermione rolled her eyes, grabbed the pumpkin she wanted for Hugo and one for Rose as well.

"Happy Halloween, Granger." He bowed and then turned on his heel, heading toward Quality Quidditch Supplies. Did he still play Quidditch? Ron had given up Quidditch long ago and with it anything resembling muscle tone. Still, she loved him. Pudgy gut and all.

Hermione thought she'd never see Draco Malfoy again but she was wrong.

#

"Are you sure we should be doing this?" Hermione breathed as she felt Draco's kisses against her neck. He laughed. What was so funny about this? Nothing. Nothing was funny about this.

"Of course we shouldn't be doing this. What a ridiculous question," said Draco. He pressed his hot lips to her, stealing any chance for continued protesting. It was an old song and he probably tired of hearing it sung. Draco pulled his mouth away from Hermione's but just enough for him to speak. "Tell me to stop and I will."

Hermione tensed. The word stop found its way through her throat and onto to her tongue but Draco always kissed it away before it could float off her lips, into the world and become real. Before that one word could destroy all of this.

"Don't," she said. "Don't stop."

"Don't worry. I won't," Draco growled in her ear, sending shivers through her body. And he wouldn't.

#

The first time they kissed, Hermione couldn't believe it happened. She couldn't believe that she had allowed it happen, but she wasn't exactly in her right mind. Draco and Hermione had been bumping into each other on Diagon Alley for a few weeks. They'd even had a firewhiskey or two together. It wasn't anything. They both just liked to argue with each other. It was great sport. And Ron and Astoria were rarely home andRose spent a lot of nights at the Potters...

They had a couple drinks at the Leaky Cauldron and were walking down the muggle London streets to get some fresh air before going home. It was a cold night. Just above freezing. Hermione had her coat and scarf wrapped tightly around her body, protecting her from the strong wind.

"I'm sorry, but I think it's awful," snapped Hermione.

Draco just shook his head, his hair falling in front of his eyes. "What do you have against tradition?"

"Tradition? I don't have anything against tradition."

"Can't I just have my bloody house elf bring me my slippers in peace?"

"Right and if he brings you the wrong ones, you what? Hit him over the head with a hammer? No. Even better. He hits himself over the head with a hammer while you watch on gleefully."

Draco's hand cupped Hermione's cheek. His touch warmed her cold skin. She inhaled sharply. "Wow. Granger that pretty little mind of yours can think of such barbaric things."

His eyes met hers. They both froze, stunned, confused, but before Hermione could pull away, Draco crashed his lips to hers. Hermione's whole body went rigid. Someone other than her husband was kissing her and she... oh, bloody Hell, she was disgusting... it felt great. Better than any kiss had in a while. Still, she didn't kiss back. Not that she pushed him away either. Hermione chose to remain neutral in the matter.

Draco tore away from her mouth, biting her lip as they separated. She gasped at the pain.

"We're drunk," he said.

"Yes," replied Hermione. It was the firewhiskey, but they were kissing again and that time she started it.

#

Hermione had lost count of how many times they'd done this. Not to mention all the different places they'd done it. Part of the excitement was the thrill of possibly getting caught.

They'd met up behind the Leaky Cauldron, in the Ministry of Magic elevator, once at King's Cross station, in Hermione's house and at Malfoy Manor. Though they most often frequented Malfoy Manor. Like they were now.

Draco had an ornate black four-poster king-sized bed. She loved the way his green silk sheets slid against her bare back like water as he moved her back and forth, a wave under his powerful breeze.

Her hand ran down his spine, knocking the sheets off them, and exposing their bodies to the cold air of the bedroom. Hermione drew instinctively toward Draco's heat. She placed rough kisses against his chest, her lips lightly scratched by the white-blonde hair.

'What are we doing?" asked Hermione.

"I thought that would be obvious." Draco ran a hand up her leg. Hermione shut her eyes, wanting to focus on nothing but the feel of his calloused fingers against her smooth skin.

"I just meant-"

"I know what you meant," snapped Draco. "But I'm done talking about it." He grabbed Hermione's arms roughly and pinned them against the bed. "Understand?"

Hermione nodded, feeling her hands grow numb from Draco's strong grip. "Yes." She tore out of Draco's grasp and flipped herself on top of him, smiling.

#

The first time they kissed sober was a different experience all together than their first, very intoxicated kiss.

The Ministry was throwing its annual Christmas ball. A grand foyer was decked in golds and silvers and red and greens. Bells chimed and fluttery voices sang. Snow drifted up against the white marble building and carriages trotted through the white powder, escorting people to the entrance.

Ron was an auror so he was invited to the ball for that alone, but it was likely the trio would always be invited to events like these. You defeat one Dark Lord...

Ron wore dress robes slightly too big for him while Hermione wore a tight fitting black dress held up by stripes of fabric that crossed in the back. Her hair was tied to the side and twisted in a bun. She'd even taken the time to put on evening makeup.

He was surprisingly easy to spot in the mix of people. Draco's blonde hair shimmered in the glowing fairy lights. His wife was on his arm. She looked nothing like Hermione expected. She was smiling, laughing. Astoria Malfoy seemed genuine. She was one of the best healers at St. Mungo's according to Draco and from the way people were hanging on her every word, he was probably right.

Even with Ron by her side, Hermione felt a strange jolt of jealously course through her. It was sick, wrong, but she couldn't help it. And she couldn't help staring.

Ron got caught up in a boring conversation about new paperwork procedures. Hermione took that chance to move around a little bit. She was admiring a beautiful red and gold ornament when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"Gryffindor colors? How original."

She rolled her eyes and turned to face Draco. "Merry Christmas to you, too."

Draco looked around and then grabbed Hermione's wrist. "Let me show you something."

Draco Malfoy worked at the Ministry of Magic. He supervised several departments, including Ron and Harry's, but he wasn't their direct boss so he almost never came in contact with them. Draco pulled Hermione through a frosted door onto a balcony.

There was a garden of enchanted pink roses that were impervious to the cold, the perfect little blossoms flecked with ice. There was also a cement fountain with a chubby little cherub that spit a long curving trail of ice in the center.

It was lovely. Absolutely lovely.

"Wow," said Hermione.

"It's my favorite place."

"I can see why." The stars were so bright. If Hermione reached out she could pluck one right out of the sky.

"You look beautiful," said Draco, his hand gently stroking the loose tendril of her hair. "I really mean that."

Hermione's eyes searched his slender body and his cut, slightly unshaven jaw. He was absolute perfection. Draco stepped closer, his thumb running down her cheek. He placed his other hand her face as well. Gently, so gently, it seemed like only a breath, Draco placed his lips against hers. He paused, waiting for her to move. She lifted her hand to his and returned his gentle kiss.

"Draco we can't," said Hermione as she pulled away.

#

Hermione was done protesting. Now it was just her and the man she craved, moving, touching, kissing, exploring each other. She was a ravaged land, searched many times over, but Draco could always find some new part of her she didn't even know existed. He let her be so many things. Live so many lives.

"Hermione," said Draco, breathing heavily. "Hermione. Your name is so – I love saying your name." He breathed it over and over again in her ear.

_Hermione. Hermione._

Nothing in the world beat the sound of an out-of-control Draco Malfoy crying her name.

"Draco," whispered Hermione.

"What the hell?" A woman's voice shouted. "What the bloody hell?"

Astoria Malfoy was home early.

**Thanks for reading! I appreciate reviews. I wanted this to be as close to what could be canon Dramione as I could think of. A little out of the norm for what I write but I just liked this idea. I'll have the next part up soon. Thanks again :)**


	2. Found

Damn.

Astoria never came home early. Never. What was she doing here? Draco was going to be sick.

He pulled away from Hermione as quickly as he could. As if that would help. As if the damage hadn't already been done.

His wife's pale face turned a tomato shade of red. She wasn't the type to get embarrassed. She was the type to get pissed. And she was as pissed as he'd ever seen her. Astoria grabbed Hermione's stack of clothes off the floor and shoved them at her.

"Get dressed and get the hell out of my house." Astoria sent a venomous glare at Draco then stomped out of the room. She slammed the door behind her, shaking a picture off the wall. It shattered on the floor. Hermione jumped.

"Hermione," said Draco softly.

"Don't say anything." Hermione swallowed and slipped out of bed. She quickly pulled on her clothes not looking at him, until she turned, connected her eyes with his then apparated out of the room. In a blink, Draco was left with no one but his wife. His very pissed off wife.

He would have to face her sometime. Draco pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and walked down the curving staircase. Astoria was staring out the window to the gardens, her hands shaking as she tried to drink a glass of water.

Draco heart ached. He had loved her once. Very, very much.

#

It was March. Draco and Astoria were to be married in just a few days. Malfoy Manor was packed with house elves and other servants scrambling around to the orders and whims of both Draco and Astoria's mother.

They had ordered at least a hundred doves, a whole orchestra and nearly everyone was invited. Mrs. Greengrass even accidentally invited the Potters. (They, at least, politely declined.) It wasn't about their friends or even what they wanted it was just about making a big show for everyone. Trying to get back in the good graces of the Ministry. The only reason the Greengrass's, who were not disgraced during the war, allowed their daughter to marry Draco was because Mr. Greengrass got himself a gambling problem and lost their entire family fortune. But for all the reasons the families thought they were getting married, the real reason was that Draco and Astoria loved each other.

Draco pushed open the door to Astoria's dressing room without announcing his presence. About five house elves surrounded her. She stood with her back facing him on a platform, her long black hair twisted and pinned in a towering up-do that defied all laws of gravity and folds and bows and ruffles of blindingly white fabric were drowning her like some sort of evil wedding monster. He tried to stifle a chuckle. It didn't work.

Astoria turned around, her eyes narrowed. "What?"

Draco smirked. "Nothing... you look..." Ridiculous but he couldn't say that. He laughed.

"Yeah. I know." She sighed and stepped down from the platform. "Will you give us a minute?" she said to the house elves. They nodded their little heads and scurried out of the room. "This is awful. I look insane."

"I wouldn't say insane..."

Astoria placed her hand on her head and groaned. "This is not how I imagined my wedding day."

It wasn't how Draco imagined his wedding day either. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny pink box. He flicked his wand over it and stretched out in size. "Open it," he said to Astoria.

She pushed back her lacy sleeves and popped open the box. "Oh," she said softly. Draco smiled. Astoria slipped the fabric from the box and held it front of her. It was a cream dress with just the faintest hint of rose, constructed of a light airy fabric the dressmaker had called chiffon, held up by tiny straps and only fell to her knees. Draco had caught Astoria staring at it in the store window.

"They'll never let me wear this," she groaned. "But it's beautiful. Thank you."

"Marry me," said Draco. Astoria laughed.

"I already agreed to that. Trust me, if I hadn't, I wouldn't be wearing this awful dress."

"Now." Draco was staring her in the eye. "Change and come with me."

"You're serious? We can't... oh, what the heck."

Draco gave Astoria a moment to change into her dress and let down her hair. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. His heart was pounding.

Astoria's broom was leaning against the wall. He grabbed it and straddled it. "Let's go." Astoria was grinning ear to ear as she took Draco's hand and climbed on with him. They flew out the open window into the fresh spring air.

They weren't able to apparate out of Malfoy Manor, so they'd travel into London and apparate to their final destination from there.

Draco had met Astoria at Hogwarts but she was younger than him and they didn't know each other well at all. So if people asked where they'd met he tell them America.

A year after the war ended, Astoria went to America to find herself. Draco went to escape himself. He saw her sitting on the steps of a little white country church somewhere in Georgia wearing a pink dress and eating a peach. It technically wasn't love at first sight. But it was love at that sight.

That's where they were heading on their broom. To that little white church. That's where they would be married.

Their families would just have to live with it.

#

A heaviness weighed on Draco as he recalled the day he married Astoria. The kiss. The vows. The vows he had broken.

Astoria turned around and looked at him. He expected her to ask him how or why. He wanted her to even. But she just looked at him, coldness in her eyes. The girl from the meadow and the little white church a thousand miles away.

"Astoria," he said not knowing what else to say. She just shook her head.

"What do you want for dinner?" she asked.

Draco stumbled backwards. That was the last thing he thought she'd say. It was unlike her. When she got mad. She got really mad. She'd throw things and curse and try to hex people.

"I-"

"I'm hungry. I had a long day at work and I want to eat," she said.

"Shouldn't we talk about-" No. Draco didn't want to talk about it but he always didn't want her to bottle everything up and avada kedavra him in his sleep.

"I don't want to talk about it." Her voice was as tense as he'd ever heard it. The glass shattered in her hand, spraying sharp fragments and water everywhere.

"Tori, are you okay?"

"Don't call me that," she snapped. Her hand was cut and bloodied.

"Let me help." Draco reached out for her hand and she tugged away.

"Don't."

Astoria reached into her boot where she kept her wand and started to mutter a spell over her wounds but she started sputtering. Tears leaked from her eyes and she slid to the floor.

"How could you... How could you. Why did you have to ruin everything?"

Draco wanted to throw up. He knew he would later. He didn't know how it happened. All he knew was the way Hermione made him feel. The way Astoria hadn't in a long time. Like he was special. Important. Worthy. But obviously, he wasn't.

"I'm sor-"

"No. You're not!" she shouted. "You're not sorry. You're just sorry you got caught!"

"Come on." Draco suddenly felt defenseless and he didn't know why. He deserved everything she threw at him. He was the cheater. "You know things haven't been right with us for years."

"That doesn't give you the right." Astoria stood up.

"No. It doesn't. But I never see you. Ever. We don't touch, or kiss, or even talk. You're always at work."

"It always comes back to that, doesn't it? You don't like that I work. You want me to hang around here like your little pet and have nothing in the world other than you!"

"That is not true!" Draco slammed his fist against the wall. "I don't care that you work. Hermione has a job and I don't -"

Astoria's mouth fell open. Oh, Merlin. He should not have said that.

"You say _her _name, her _name_ to me. You're disgusting. You make me sick." Astoria shoved her wand back in her boot and ran out of the kitchen. Draco didn't follow her. He should have followed her. The front door squeaked open and then slammed shut.

She was gone.

The question nagging at his mind. _Was it worth it?_

_#_

As long as he lived, Draco would never forget the first night they spent together. Astoria had been gone for a month doing work in Africa. Draco had offered to go with her but she said he would get in the way. So he was all alone in Malfoy Manor.

He had sent a few of his employees home early so he was the only one available to give Ron Weasley the paperwork he needed for a case he and Potter were working. Draco walked down the few flights to the Auror's Department.

Weasley's door was made of tinted glass. He could see two silhouettes clearly through the door. Hermione and Weasley.

"You've worked every night for the last two weeks!" Hermione shouted.

"I have to work. How else would we eat?"

"You act like you're the only one who works," she snapped. "And when you are at home all you do is sit around. You hardly even notice me. Merlin curse the day they decided that televising quidditch games was a good idea."

"Sorry that when I get home I want to enjoy myself and not be nagged."

"I do not nag."

Weasley laughed. The door flew open. Hermione burst out and let the door slam behind her. She almost ran right into Draco.

She gasped. "Sorry."

"It's okay," said Draco, his hand on her arm.

"How much of that did you-"

"Not much," Draco lied.

Hermione nodded and hurried from the corridor. Draco knocked on Weasley's door. He answered and took the papers. It was a transaction with no words at all.

Draco walked back into his office and drew his wand when he noticed someone standing inside.

"Oh, Hermione." He lowered his wand. "What are you doing here?" Her eyes were red. She had been crying. "Are you alright?"

She shrugged. Draco placed a hand on her shoulder. Heat shot through his body. She was small, fragile. Beautiful. Hermione collapsed into his arms. Draco hesitated but then wrapped her in a tight embrace. He could feel her heart beat against his chest. His heart quickened in time with hers.

She looked up and when their eyes met he couldn't stop himself. Draco's lips caught hers. She immediately kissed back. Her hands tangling in his hair, his hands running down her back. It was wild. Passionate. Unlike anything he'd ever experienced.

They knocked into his desk and into the bookshelf. Draco tripped back into the chair and Hermione landed on his lap. She gasped at the contact.

Her face was pink and her lips swollen. Her hair a tangled mess from his hands. Hermione's small fingers tugged at Draco's tie until it came undone and slithered onto the floor. Then she went to work on the buttons.

No one said a word. They both seemed to know that if they did it would all come crumbling down.

Draco slipped his hand under Hermione's pink blouse and pulled it over her head.

_Damn. _

Those soft pink lips met his again and it was over before it started. They were both going to give in.

Being with her felt like fall. Like warmth and home and cinnamon. Magic, mystery. A descent into something beyond, something greater than himself.

"You're perfect, witch," he growled in her ear.

"Call me that again," she whispered.

"Witch. My perfect little witch."

They were still on the chair when it was over. Her arms locked behind his neck, their breaths, heavy, labored, in unison.

"Don't go," he said in her ear. "Stay. Stay with me."

Draco hated himself. He would always hate himself for betraying his vows. But he wanted to do it again.

#

Draco felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes. He bent down and picked up the shards of glass on the floor by hand. His wand would have been sufficient but it was his fault he broke the glass. He deserved to cut and slice his hands. To be on his knees picking up the pieces. Not that he could ever really pick up the pieces. Not the pieces that mattered.

There was knock at the door. Draco stood up. Maybe Astoria came back and just forgot her key. He hurried to the front door and slung it open, expecting to see his wife's face.

It wasn't his wife. It was Ron Weasley.

Oh, hell.

**Thanks for reading! Please review if you get a chance I really appreciate it. I hope you're enjoying!**


	3. Cost

"Weasley," said Draco as he looked at the scorwling ginger-haired man standing in his doorway. Weasley's eyes were ringed with black and he reeked of firewhiskey.

Weasley opened his mouth as if he was going to say something but instead he swung his fist. His knuckles cracked into Draco's head. Draco staggered back, the world flashing on and off in rhythm with the throbbing pain.

"What the hell?" asked Draco automatically. It was stupid question. He knew exactly why Ron Weasley had hit him.

"Shut up!" shouted Weasley. He grabbed Draco's collar and shoved him against the wall.

"Get your hands off me." Draco tore away from Weasley.

"Get your hands off my wife!"

Anger pumped through Draco. It was making him crazy. Making him lose focus. "How about you tell your wife to get her hands off of me because trust me, I didn't have to force her. She came crawling to me."

Weasley raised his fist and swung it at Draco, but this time Draco was ready for it. He grabbed Weasley's arm and twisted it behind his back. Weasley grunted in pain. Draco shoved him to the floor. Weasley quickly turned around, pointing his wand. Draco pulled his out immediately, but he stumbled back. Merlin. He was dizzy.

"I'm tired of this muggle crap. Let's fight like wizards," said Weasley slowly standing to his feet. Draco tightened the grip on his wand. No. He would not be beaten by a Weasley. Not at this.

They both opened their mouths to cast a spell when a shout came from somewhere else.

"Expelliarmus."

Both Ron and Draco's wands flew out of their hands and clattered on the floor.

Draco turned around. He had been beaten by a Weasley. Hermione Weasley.

"What do you two morons think you're doing?" snapped Hermione as she tucked her wand back into jacket. "Have you two just completely lost your mind!" She stomped toward them, scowling.

Draco wanted to tell Hermione to leave. She didn't need to be here to be in the middle of this, but the words didn't come out. His mouth didn't even seem to work. The world started twisting and stretching around him like it was suddenly made of taffy.

Hermione saying "Draco, are you okay?" was the last thing he heard before he crumpled to the floor and everything went black.

##

"Ron! What did you do?" Hermione rushed over to Draco. He had collapsed and his body was twisted at awkward angles. Her stomach lurched. This man might not have been her husband, but she cared for him very much. And though she'd never admit it to anyone, and not even to herself most of the time, she loved Draco.

"I just hit him. Can that git not even take a punch like a man?"

Hermione gently turned his head and gasped at the sight. A heavy stream of blood was pouring from Draco's ear. Her hand flew to her mouth.

_No. No. No._

"Look at what you did!" shouted Hermione, forcing back the tears that were stinging her eyes.

Ron just shook his head. His ears bright red. They were always red when he was angry. "Don't you get it Hermione?"

"Get what?" she sniffled since she didn't want to cry. It was the next best thing.

"You did this. It's all your fault."

Hermione glanced down at Draco ever-paling face and sight of the crimson blood streaming down his cheek and onto the floor.

"We need to get him to St. Mungos," Hermione said, robotically. His breaths were shallow. She reached for his pulse. It was slow. "Now."

#

Hermione would never forget the first time she realized she was in love Draco. They'd been sleeping together for awhile. It wasn't emotionless, it wasn't empty. It wasn't just sex. Hermione never would have done that.

It was need.

She needed Draco. Needed to feel wanted. And she couldn't help but feel wanted when Draco's steely eyes focused on her and only her as the came together. They clung to each other like people desperate not fall off the edge of a cliff. But that was all it had been. A deep, physical and emotional longing to be special. Until that one night.

It was a Saturday evening just after eight. Harry and Ron were on a mission somewhere in Asia. And Rose was spending the weekend with Ginny and Lily. So Hermione was on her own. She didn't particularly feel like being alone so she decided to go for a walk around the neighborhood.

"Hey," a voice called from behind her. Hermione turned around, her wand ready to strike.

It was Draco, hands raised. "I surrender."

Hermione looked around. If he came over, he apparated directly into the house. If he was out here.

_Oh, Merlin. One of the neighbors could see him._

"Potter and Weasley are out of town," he said. He was technically their boss. He would know where they were.

"Hey... you didn't send them on this mission just we could-"

"Shag."

Hermione pursed her lips. She always pretended to be offended by his crudeness, but she wasn't. Honestly, she found it sexy.

"No. I didn't, but that's a good idea."

He swept up to her and pulled her into a long kiss. She melted in his embrace.

"We should get inside," she said against his lips.

"That's a marvelous idea." He bit her ear.

Draco helped her make some tea. Ron never helped her. He just sat on the couch and ordered food like she was a muggle Drive-Thru Window. Hermione often thought of all the horrible things Ron did whenever Draco was in her house. It eased the guilt a little.

Hermione poured the tea and handed a cup to Draco. He took a sip, grinning at her through the steam. Her whole body ached for him. She stole the glass away.

"I wasn't finished-"

Hermione slammed her lips against Draco's cutting off his words. He mumbled something incoherent and then kissed her back. They were losing control and knocking around the kitchen. Hermione was pulling Draco's shirt over his head-

_Crack._

He'd slammed her against the wall and picture fell and shattered on the ground. Hermione jumped away from Draco, startled by the sound. Her eyes turned to the picture. It was a family photo from their trip to America when Hugo and Rose were still very young. They were all huddled together under Mount Rushmore.

Tears started pouring from her eyes. Draco looked at her. He was going to freak. All guys freaked when girls cried. Hermione thought that would change when she got older but it didn't. Men were worse than boys. Nothing scared them more than a crying girl. But Draco did something she never saw coming. He just wrapped his arms around her and let her cry on his bare chest until his skin was stained with tears and runny mascara.

"It's okay, darling. Just cry. You can cry all you want, love."

That was when it hit her. Why she was really crying. When she looked at that picture, she'd wished it had been Draco and not Ron. She wished her life was with him. Hermione was in love. Deeply in love with Draco Malfoy.

This was not going to end well.

#

Hermione and Ron sat in the waiting room at St. Mungo's across from each other.

"You don't have to stay," said Hermione.

"Hmph," Ron replied, flipping a page of the Daily Prophet.

A healer came through the door into the waiting room. Hermione stood up.

"Mrs. Malfoy?" he asked. Hermione felt sharp pain sting through her body.

Ron looked up from the paper. "No she isn't."

"I can't realize information to anyone but family," said the healer.

Hermione's heart started pounding. She needed to know more. "Can you at least tell me if he's going to be alright?

The healer sighed. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt. He'll recover. In time."

Hermione let out a sigh of relief that was entirely for Draco. It didn't hit her until afterward that she should have been relieved her husband wouldn't be facing accidental murder charges.

Hermione saw a flash.

_Had someone taken her picture?_

It wasn't until the next morning that she figured out just who took that picture. A reporter from the Daily Prophet.

The headline read: Draco Malfoy caught in bed with Ron Weasley's Wife

Hermione laughed. It was absurd. After everything, she was Ron Weasley's Wife. Then she stopped laughing. She realized it wasn't funny.

Her kids read that newspaper.

**Thanks for reading and reviewing. I hope you're enjoying. Sorry for the long time it took to update. I'll try to do better. **


	4. Right

Orange and red leaves swept the street, a strange rattling sending shivers all through Draco. He pulled his coat tighter, trying to keep out the cold wind, although the icy temperature matched just how he felt inside.

He stood on the door step of a crooked little cobblestone cottage and peered in through the window. Hermione was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, flipping slowly through the pages of a rather large leather bound book. Her eyes caught his and she started.

She hurried to the door and cracked it open, brown eyes peering through the thin crack. "You shouldn't be here."

"Hermione, please. I need to talk to you. Is Weasley home yet?"

Draco had left early from work in order to avoid running into Hermione's husband. He shouldn't have done it, but he also gave the old Weasel an extra work assignment.

"No," she sighed.

"Can I come in?" he asked, holding her gaze.

"Draco, no."

He shrugged. "Can you come out then?"

"What do you want Draco?"

He paused, thinking over everything that had gone the last week. The big fight. The letter. The divorce papers.

"Astoria left me."

Hermione shut her eyes and let out a long breath. "I'm sorry."

"How are you and Weasley?" he asked. Draco couldn't decide what he wanted to her to say.

"Honestly, Draco. I don't know. But if he came home and saw you here, they'd be a lot worse." She was still peering through the cracked door.

"I'm really not trying to cause trouble for you."

"I know that Dray, it's just, after that article in the _Daily Prophet-" _Hermione finally stepped outside, the winter wind painting an almost immediate blush on her cheeks.

"Since when do you care about what's written in the _Prophet?_"

"I care when it's true."

It had been awful to see those headlines. To have everything both Draco and Hermione had worked for dragged through the mud.

"Have you talked to your kids?" he asked.

"I owled them but I haven't heard back. I don't think they're speaking to me. You?"

"Scorpius blames his mother." Draco stared down at his shiny black shoes. Talking to Scorpius had been the worst part of all this. He acted superior, casual, as if it didn't effect him. That scared Draco. He didn't want his son to turn out the way he had. So cold and callous.

"Why?" asked Hermione.

"He thinks she pushed me away. I tried to tell him it was my fault, but -"

"You couldn't because you think it's true?"

Draco paused for a long time. They'd had problem in the marriage for a long time – long before he'd started seeing Hermione. "I don't know."

Hermione's hand fell on his arm. "It's still our fault. We still made the bad choices."

Draco looked up, their eyes meeting, locking, connecting. "I know."

They hadn't always made the right choices, but somewhere along the way, Draco had wanted to do what was right for Hermione.

#

It was a late evening. Draco was working on a project for his boss that was due the next week when he heard a knock at the door.

"Come in," he drawled.

His heart caught as Hermione stepped through the door. Her hair was shiny and silky and pulled back behind her shoulders, a tight red dressed hugged her just the right way. Draco couldn't stop staring. Hermione put her finger to her lips and raised an eyebrow. Without a word, she started loosening his tie.

"Hermione, this is crazy," he breathed, trying to get a hold of himself, but just taking in her sweet floral sent.

"We did it once and got away with it," she said as his tie fell to the floor.

"We were lucky."

"Yes we were, if I remember correctly." Hermione winked. Something seemed off about her tonight. He was usually the one who had to do the 'talking into'.

"Weasley _and _Potter are still here." Draco felt it would be almost worse if Potter caught them for some reason.

"Yeah but they don't know _I_ am. How often do they even come into your office?"

Pretty much never.

"Not often."

"My point exactly." Her fingers worked their way expertly down the buttons of his black shirt. Draco's whole body tingled with just her touch.

"Did anyone see you here?" he whispered.

She paused. "I don't think anyone recognized me." Hermione's hand were running up and down his bare chest.

"That's not what I asked." He turned away.

"I walked past some people but so what? What's the fun without the risk?"

Something was up with Hermione. He couldn't take advantage of her like this. Not now. Maybe four months ago he could have, but not now.

"Sit down," he said forcefully.

"What?"

"You heard me."

Hermione sighed and sat down on his desk. "Fine. I'm sitting."

"Thank you."

"Okay..." She looked adorably impatient. Draco almost decided just to let her have her way regardless, but it just wasn't right.

"What's going on Hermione?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Really?"

"It's just-"

"What?"

She let her gaze fall to the floor. "It's my anniversary."

Draco hated when Hermione talked about Weasley. It was their unspoken rule not to discuss their spouses.

"Um. Oh. I don't-"

"See. I knew you didn't want to know."

"That's not what I said. I'm just curious why you're here with me on this particular day."

She paused. "He forgot."

"Oh." Git.

"And I know that makes me a horrible hypocrite if I'm angry at him for forgetting our anniversary when we're... you know."

"I know. But maybe it's part of the reason-" Draco would latch onto any excuse for their behavior. He had to because he couldn't give up Hermione. He wouldn't.

"The reason we even happened."

"Because he takes you for granted."

"Please don't talk about Ron."

"You're right. I'm sorry. Hermione?"

"Yes."

With the way his heart was pounding and his hands sweating, Draco did not want to say this, but it was the right thing. He may not have been very good at doing the right thing, but for her he would try.

"I think you should leave."

She bit on her lip, eyes lifting in confusion. "What? Draco – what are you saying?"

His hand fell against her cheek, taking in her perfect warmth. He brought his lips to her forehead. "Shh. Nothing. I'm not – I think you should leave tonight. You should go and be with," Draco really didn't want to send her away to be with her husband, but he had to. For now. "_him_. I'll be here tomorrow."

"Dray-" She placed her hand over his and squeezed.

"Don't say anything," he whispered.

Hermione went to be with Weasley that night, but she came to Draco the day after and the day after that.

#

Draco and Hermione stood on her porch staring at each other. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed her until that moment.

"Walk with me," he said.

"We shouldn't."

"Can we really make things worse than they already are?"

A half-smile broke out on her face. In the dim light, he could tell she had been crying. "I don't think I want to test it."

"Okay," he said and reluctantly turned his back to her.

"Okay," she breathed.

"Hermione."

"Yes, Draco?"

Draco marched up to Hermione, energy pulsing through him. He grabbed Hermione's face in his hands and slammed his lips to hers. Her small hands stroked his hair and his lips moved against hers with all the passion and loss and confusion he had inside.

"Come with me," whispered Draco as they broke apart.

"I don't think-" Tears were forming in Hermione's eyes. His hands were on her neck and he could feel her fluttering pulse.

"Please. I can't, I need you. Come with me."

"Draco." She shook her head.

Draco paused then held her face she had to look at him. The truth had become very clear to him over the last few days. Clearer than anything in his life. "Hermione, I'm in love with you."

She stood there deathly silent, her face unreadable. "I need you to leave."

The world slipped away into darkness, into empty utter madness. He was going to lose her. "Oh, Hermione I shouldn't have -"

"Please, Malfoy, just go."

He was no longer Draco. Or Dray. Or _hers. _He was just Malfoy again

**Hey everyone. Sorry it's been so long since I updated. I don't have the easiest time writing this fic although I really do like it. Hopefully, I'll post more soon. Please review! Thanks for reading.**


	5. Stain

Hermione stood there, the wind blowing Draco's hair, the coolness blushing her cheeks. She heard the words come out of his mouth, but she couldn't believe them. He loved her. How could she? She wasn't worth loving, not anymore.

Her eyes met his. She searched and searched for a sign that he was lying, that he was tricking her somehow, but there was nothing, but a veil of tears over his grey eyes.

Hermione felt like she was melting, pulling apart. What was she going to say? She knew the truth. She loved him too. But look what she'd done to the last man she loved? Hermione betrayed him. She was unfaithful. How could she know she wouldn't do it again?

She kept trying to form words, but nothing came out. He must have gotten tired of waiting for her to come to her senses because he turned away. That was all it took. All it took to pull her back to reality, to ground her.

Draco was leaving and if he left, he never come back. That much was obvious. Was it a chance she was willing to take? Losing him forever?

She was tainted now. Stained. But if anyone understood what it meant to be marked by your own mistakes, forever haunted by your own darkness, your own mistakes, it was the man in front of her. The man slowly walking away.

"Draco, wait," her voice cracked with fear, anticipation and the cold. What was she doing? What she had to do. What she had with Ron was gone. She'd killed it. And there was no magic that could bring back the dead.

Hermione was sorry. She'd always regret the loss of the love she'd had with Ron. He was her friend, but that was over and she could let another love die. Hermione couldn't be responsible for that.

Draco looked at her, a single tear slipping over his page cheek, freezing against his lips.

"This won't be easy," she said. "We're both really screwed up people. And I understand if you want to leave, if you don't want me, but if you do. We could do this. We could try it. For real this time."

He stepped toward her and placed his hand gently against her cheek. She felt the warmth rush through her body in torrents. Merlin, he made her weak. But maybe that's what she finally needed to be. Weak. Vulnerable.

With Ron she'd felt safe, but with Draco she was breakable. He could break her. But he could also make her feel like no one else had ever made her feel. Alive. Exploding with passion.

Draco pulled his lips to hers with a need, a desperation she'd never felt before. Hermione's hand's tangled into his hair and she let the worries of tomorrow, of the complications they'd face, wash away into their coming together. They would deal with that later.

This could kill her, but what a way to die.

**Sorry this is short. I should have just connected it with the chapter before. All we have left now is the Epilogue. Hope you enjoyed it. Please read and review. Thanks!**


	6. Lucky

_Five years later_

Draco leaned over and pressed a kiss to his wife's forehead. She was sound asleep and snoring slightly.

"Good morning, Hermione," he breathed.

"Morning, Draco." Yawning, Hermione curled into her husband's arms. He placed another soft kiss into her tangled curls.

The door squeaked open. The shadow of tiny feet appeared in the doorway.

"Violet. What are you doing?"

A little girl with curly blonde hair stepped through the threshold into their bedroom. She ran and leapt onto the bed in between her parents. "It's Christmas. Has Santa come?"

"Of course, he has." Draco tickled his daughter, looking into the deep brown eyes that matched her mothers.

"Is Scorpius coming for Christmas?" asked Violet, her hands jittery with excitement. "And Ron and Tori."

"Mom, Draco! Wake up!" Hugo stuck his head of ginger hair around the corner. "I can hear Dad and Tori outside."

"Take your sister downstairs – and keep her away from the presents until we get there," said Hermione. She gave Violet a quick kiss. Violet jumped out of bed and ran into Hugo's arms.

Draco and Hermione slipped out of bed and began to dress. It was strange how much had changed in the past few years. The first two were pretty bad but we all decided it was best to keep the kids out of it and since they all had started Hogwarts. It wasn't hard to split the summer and Christmas holidays.

But in all the figuring out how to deal with the kids – it seemed that Hermione's ex-husband, Ron, and Draco's ex-wife, Astoria, bonded over a mutual dislike of the two of them. Two years ago, Ron and Tori married and ever since then things had gotten easier.

They were able to spend holidays together without getting into huge fights which was great for the kids.

"I still can't believe Astoria is pregnant," said Hermione.

"Why not? You got pregnant like a week after we got married." Draco leaned down and pressed a long wet kiss to wife's mouth. She sighed into his touch.

Hermione sighed and stared down at her feet.

"You okay?" asked Draco.

"It's just this could have turned out really badly."

His hand fell against her cheek. He knew exactly how she felt. He felt that way a lot. "I know but it didn't."

"We got lucky."

"Yeah."

"We didn't deserve it."

"But the kids did." Draco pulled Hermione into a tight hug. "Come on – it's Christmas."

They walked into the hallway and down the stairs.

"Merry Christmas," said Ron, who stood in the doorway smiling, his fingers tangled with Astoria's. Scorpius came in behind them holding a stack of Christmas presents.

"Merry Christmas Dad. Hermione." He grinned.

As Draco saw his almost grown son standing there smiling, his little daughter climbing on his stepson's shoulders and felt his wife's small and perfect hand in his, he knew that Hermione was right.

They had gotten lucky, very lucky indeed.

**A/N: Thank you for sticking with this story all the way through. I hope you enjoyed the ending and I tied up the loose ends. Thanks again!**


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